Piccolo disegno fatto a matita.

Gas Station – Pencil, Paper and American Silence

In this drawing I wanted to tell a story of a pause in the middle of nowhere, rather than a specific place.

It is an American gas station, one of those you already know even if you have never been there. It could be an old Texaco, or perhaps a forgotten Caltex, with a sign faded by the sun. Maybe a Sinclair with the rusty green dinosaur on the side of the sign, or a Shell from the 60s, when the logo was still hand-painted on the sheet metal.

I drew it in pencil on paper, letting the landscape act as a narrative voice.
The sky is huge, it takes up almost the entire scene. Because in the Midwest or in the desert, clouds are the only ones that really move. And underneath, the station is there, small, square, silent. A low building, abandoned pumps, a parked car that seems to have been waiting for days.
It is a place that could be on Route 66, or along a secondary road in Nevada, between one ghost town and another.

I was interested in capturing that suspended moment, that silence that can only be heard where there is nothing.
This is not just a service station: it is a mental stop. A place where you can refuel with melancholy rather than gasoline.

The pencil stroke is deliberately dry, essential, grainy like an old photo found in a drawer.
A tribute to American solitude and its infinite spaces.

Aggiunto il 10 ago 2023

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